


Same Damn Hunger

by MikeWritesThings



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drug Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Explicit Sex, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Octane | Octavio Silva, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeWritesThings/pseuds/MikeWritesThings
Summary: Crypto was just another name added to the long list of people he had slept with.Nothing more and nothing less.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	Same Damn Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was c*mmissioned [censoring so ao3 doesnt nerf me] and i went uh way overboard. anyways some trigger warnings are needed for this fic so
> 
> non spoilery tws:  
> -octane uses both sex and drugs as a coping mechanism, sex moreso than drugs cuz i hate writing about drug usage even if its just stim lol  
> -octane self-harms by biting himself  
> -octane has an anxiety attack and also has ptsd 
> 
> spoilery tws:  
> -consent issues, i.e. octane consents to sex without actually wanting to have sex etc  
> -past child sexual abuse , NEVER explicitly described
> 
> octane is trans in this fic but it is never explicitly mentioned except one line
> 
> there are several sex scenes but theyre not terribly graphic like a porn fic lol
> 
> enjoy!

Crypto was yet another name added to the long list of people Octavio had slept with.

He remembered sitting on the edge of Crypto's bed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and feeling gross from last night's activities. He'd let the other come inside him and had forgotten to clean up afterwards, so he staggered to his metal feet and headed straight for Crypto's shower. Crypto had said something, but he didn't remember what. He was too focused on washing all the grime away, because god forbid Ajay smell it on him later.

When he finished cleaning up, stepping out of the shower, he saw Crypto leaning against the doorframe, shirtless and wearing sweatpants. He was nice to look at, broad shoulders and a built chest. Lacking in the ab department, though, but that was fine. He was hot either way.

"Do you want breakfast? Have you ever had gilgeori toast?" Crypto had asked, strangely sweet even though he'd told Octavio twelve hours before he wasn't Interested, with a capital I, but Octavio had his charms. Maybe he wasn't good for a relationship, but he was good for a quick fuck, and he was exactly that—just a quick fuck. So he flung the towel over his shoulder, focused on putting his piercings back in, and said,

"Nah, compadre. I've got rules about my one-night stands. See you in the Ring, though."

He finished getting dressed, and Crypto didn't say anything else, just watched him with a frown on his face. There was something alight in his eyes that he didn’t have time to decipher, a strange sort of want, but it was gone when he waved a silent goodbye to Octavio as he left.

That was yesterday, and Octavio was still thinking about it today.

He didn't know why. He had sex often. The number of people he'd slept with, the amount of one-night stands he's had in his lifetime, it couldn't be accurately counted. Somewhere in the hundreds. Two hundreds. A _lot._ And he hardly remembered anyone after he slept with them—even people he knew, classmates from college and the like, eventually faded to the back of his mind.

It wasn't like the sex with Crypto had been particularly good, either. Octavio hardly ever enjoyed sex after the fact; it was good in the moment, if not a little boring, and then he woke up unsatisfied, craving a rush. Crypto had been the same.

("Is this okay?" Crypto had asked him, biting marks into his throat, some mix of gentle and rough, wanting to treat Octavio carefully but clearly eager to get to the good stuff.

"More than okay," Octavio had responded, nails digging into the skin of the other's back as he spread his legs as wide as they would go. It was good, actually. So good. He felt good. " _Hurry up_.")

Maybe it was because he actually kind of liked the other, personality-wise. Not enough to warrant anything serious like a _relationship,_ but enough to think about sleeping with him more than once instead of tossing him into the ever-growing pile of People He'd Fucked Once And Then Never Saw Again. 

But he wouldn't sleep with him twice in a row. No, it was too late for that, because a man was currently kissing up his neck, some fan he'd met at the afterparty of a game who happened to catch Octavio right when he was spiraling down and remembering things he didn't want to remember.

He'd left his stim back on the dropship—if he'd had it with him, he would have shot up in the bathroom to numb the memories, forget about rough hands on his hips and biting his own hand so hard it bled to muffle his noises. But the guy currently feeling him up in this corner of the room was the next best thing, and he'd take it over remembering shit that didn't need to be remembered any day.

* * *

Ajay wasn't pleased with any of his favorite activities, especially the sexual ones, and she made this evident every time the two were in a room together

"You want to get high? Fine. You're smart. You take low doses. I hate it, but you manage." She was rambling, and practically threw the omelette she was making for him onto his plate, scattering the Aspirin he'd set on the edge. "Sleeping with so many people? I have to bug ya. Take it slow. At least get tested once every two weeks if you're gonna do that, Tavi."

"That's boring. _And_ dumb," Octavio yawned, hungover and annoyed by her nagging. He pushed the omelette around with his fork, not sure he could eat it without throwing up. 

"You know what's not dumb? An STD. You're at risk."

"Just call me a slut while you're at it."

"You know I don't mean it like that," Ajay said, not quite angry so much as upset, as she roughly scraped an omelette onto her own plate before shoving the pan into the sink, already filled with soapy water. "Don't put words into my mouth."

"I'm fine, Che," Octavio said, taking a bite of his omelette and god, it tasted like shit. His throat was dry and his own tongue felt heavy in his mouth—maybe it actually tasted fine, because Ajay was eating hers without problem, but he just couldn't do it. He dropped his fork onto the plate and took his Aspirin instead, swallowing down both pills with half a glass of orange juice.

Crypto chose this moment to enter the communal kitchen, casting the two of them a side glance before turning his back on them and opening up the fridge. He closed the door with a sigh and turned to make himself coffee instead while Octavio watched, taking in the line of the other's jaw, the way his hands looked while he prepared himself milk and sugar.

Crypto's eyes suddenly found his and Octavio turned his gaze pointedly down at his breakfast, even cutting up pieces like he was going to eat it, and by the time he looked back up, Crypto was gone.

“What was that about?” Ajay asked, having watched him like a hawk.

He shrugged and set his fork back down. “We fucked.”

She choked on her food, thumping at her chest with a hard fist and squawking out, “You what?”

He gave a lecherous grin, waggling his eyebrows as she stared at him, eyes wide. “Oh yeah. Last week. You want details?”

“No,” Ajay said, shaking her head vehemently as he laughed at the expression on her face. “Not at all.”

She then paused, staring up into the distance.

“He should probably get tested, too,” she mumbled to herself.

“Because of me?” Octavio asked.

“Yes. Did you tell him you sleep around?”

“Yep,” Octavio said. It was true—he had made it clear that night, as Crypto took off his shirt so he could admire that chest of his, that he was _strictly_ casual, and was only in it for sex. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Good. Maybe he got tested on his own.” Picking up her empty plate, she walked to the sink, mumbling to herself some more. “I should probably bring it up just to be safe...”

Octavio rolled his eyes and turned to dump his food in the trash. He wasn’t that hungry, and besides, they had a game today. Adrenaline was the only source of energy he needed.

* * *

Octavio’s anxiety attacks were very infrequent and yet very obvious. He could never get away with hiding them, even if whoever he was with couldn’t tell it was an anxiety attack anyways. He hadn’t experienced one in front of a fellow competitor yet, unless you counted Ajay, and he planned to keep it that way, but life never quite went how he wanted it to.

Their rando squadmate fucking sucked on like, all accounts. Revenant wasn’t much better: he kept going off on his own, and yeah, he was getting a lot of kills and cackling evilly the whole time, but solo-ing was kind of Octavio’s job. He had a reputation for charging in on his own, guns blazing, and it was kind of hard to do that when he’d been saddled with babysitting duty.

The random wore a mask like him, but much dumber looking, resembling a potato sack more than an actual mask. He was tall, over six feet, hulking, but none of that meant anything when his aim was piss-poor and he was slower than a fucking rock.

The anxiety attack occurred when they were hunkered down in a building, trapped on all sides by Caustic’s gas traps. Octavio was pinging for Revenant to come and take Caustic’s squad out, because Nox gas was his _least_ favorite way to die, when the random pressed up against his back, practically on top of him.

Maybe he was trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable if the squad came in guns blazing. Maybe he was trying to use Octavio as a human meat shield. Whatever the case, it made Octavio freeze up, discomfort taking over his body. It got worse the more aware of the other he became, of just how much he was touching him, but he couldn’t move. All of his joints were locked, artificial and otherwise, and fuck he was having an anxiety attack. Fuck.

It could have been for any number of reasons; the build of his squadmate, the same callused tan hands that gripped his hip before moving to his arm to shove him closer into the corner, or maybe the fact that he had already been on edge all day, all fucking week, as his birthday drew nearer and he was reminded again and again of something he didn’t want to fucking be reminded of.

The urge to bite his hand swelled up in his chest, his rapidly-beating heart telling him that something was going wrong and something awful was about to happen. The bite scars on the juncture between his thumb and index finger tingled, going numb as his squadmate breathed down his neck, saying something-or-other about _Hey, you’re being awfully quiet._

He wanted to get the fuck out of here, but he couldn't move a muscle. Didn't even know how he could escape, being trapped on all sides by gas traps and a solid body. He was spiraling again.

The solution came to him in a frenzied epiphany, and with lightning-fast movements Octavio jammed a stim syringe into his thigh, worsening his heart rate, but filling him up with the adrenaline needed to fucking _move._

"I'm goin' in," he said out loud, voice sounding foreign to his own ears, and the rando said something else, and Revenant was growling in his ear, but he was already kicking the door down and inhaling the toxic gas. The familiar ice-cold feeling of it settled in his lungs as he coughed violently, head woozy as he tried aiming his R-99 through the thick cloud of it.

A Longbow shot hit him right in the head and he was knocked, breathing in more gas while the rando tried to squeeze past the trap blocking his way, body much too large to do anything useful.

The next thing Octavio knew he was sitting up in the medbay, alive, head hurting with the phantom pains of a bullet entering his skull.

Fuck.

Pulling on his legs, he yanked the various electrodes off his body before getting to his feet, anxious and filled with the urge to move, or do something dangerous, probably a mixture of both. He stumbled out into the hall, a grin already on his face, preparing something to say to whatever nurse inevitably came rushing out to tell him he needed bedrest, when he nearly collided with something—or some _one —_solid.

“Watch where-”

There was a pause from the other person.

“Oh.”

Octavio glanced up at the face of the person he’d almost run into, the familiar face of Crypto, blinking down at him lethargically, clearly still feeling the aftereffects of dying in-game. 

He felt himself relax the slightest bit—a curious reaction that he didn't want to think about right now. Crypto's eyes met his own before flickering down his body, as if checking for injuries. Octavio wondered if the other was remembering the last time they'd been this close too: he'd been between Crypto's legs, listening to the noises he made as he-

“You should be more careful,” Crypto finally said, cutting his train of thought off, and Octavio bit back a scoff.

“Nah, I’m good. You know how much I hate being still.”

God, he wanted stim. He wanted stim so bad.

Crypto hummed, tilting his head to the side, like he was thinking about something. Octavio’s fingers twitched against the wall, palm pressed firmly against it to keep himself upright. He wanted the other to get on with it already, but at the same time, didn’t want him to leave. He didn’t want to be alone in this hallway, with nothing but the lights flickering overhead and the phantom feeling of breath against his neck.

He liked Crypto; they played video games together on occasion, talked every now and then, so they weren’t _complete_ strangers, but he wouldn’t pretend that he knew much about him. And that was kind of exciting—a mystery to unravel, someone who’s barriers he could one day break down with the force of a jackhammer. One of these days.

“Do you want to get dinner together?” Crypto asked.

And maybe that day would be today.

It was well past twelve hours. This wouldn't be breaking any of his rules—he knew what Crypto _really_ wanted.

“Sure,” he said, because he hadn’t eaten since yesterday and he could use a free meal after whatever the fuck had happened in the Ring earlier. 

The next thing he knew, he was sitting beside Crypto at some hole-in-the-wall joint in the city, having pushed back hanging flaps displaying the name of the place to get inside. Not the kind of high-class thing Octavio was used to back home, but honestly, he usually preferred this type of hangout more. These types of places were typically louder than whatever five-star restaurant his father would drag him out to on business meetings back on Psamathe, and therefore less stifling.

The two had an abundance of food between them, things Crypto said were named galbi, bulgogi, musaengchae, and a bottle of soju. Octavio at least knew what soju was, but the other three things he would be trying for the first time. Crypto reached across the table to pick up slices of meat with his chopsticks, saying, “Authentic Korean barbecue. The only place around for miles that’s decent.”

“How long did it take you to find this place?” Octavio asked, pouring himself some soju into a shot glass. The musaengchae looked interesting—contrary to popular belief, he rather liked vegetables, and these looked spicy too, so that was a bonus.

(“You eat like a rabbit,” Ajay had remarked to him once. They were thirteen, and he was going through a phase where he only ate salads. They were out eating lunch together because he didn't want to be home. He never wanted to be home.

“I like rabbits,” Octavio had responded around a mouthful of spinach, and reached out to grab at the ranch, but quickly withdrew his hand lest she see the clear bite marks between his thumb and index finger.)

“A long time,” Crypto answered, mouth full of meat. Crypto talked a lot when his mouth was full and chewed loudly, something Octavio knew his second stepmother would have hit his knuckles for until he stopped. But it was kind of endearing to see Crypto do it—a small crack in that stupid facade of his where he had to be mysterious and cool all the time.

Crypto brought up another piece of meat to his lips, staring at it, before admitting reluctantly, “It was actually Mirage who told me about this place.”

“Bet that hurts your ego,” Octavio said with a smirk.

“Food is more important to me than my ego.”

Octavio piled some of the musaengchae onto his plate and picked up a large portion with his own chopsticks, trying it out. It did not disappoint. 

Crypto was watching him for his reaction as he chewed, and he gave a silent thumbs-up, mentally adding it to the list of foods he was going to ask the chef back at home to learn for him.

“Musaengchae is my favorite side dish,” Crypto said, propping up his face with his fist on his cheek, and he took some of it off of Octavio’s plate without asking, but he didn’t mind that much.

“Really?” Octavio hummed, wondering if adding Tobasco would make it even spicier. “It’s good. Have you ever had pozole?”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s soup,” Octavio said, and decided to try some of the bulgogi as well. It was good to eat, so he could keep up this pretense that he felt fine beneath the surface. “It’s got like...hominy and pork in it. It can be really spicy, too.”

“Maybe I’ll try it one day.”

“Yeah, if I can find a good place for it.”

"Is that a date?"

He couldn't tell if the other was joking or not.

"Nah, I've got rules."

Crypto took some bulgogi too, chewing for a while, before swallowing and fixing Octavio with a stare. "You mentioned those rules, but never told me any of them. Do they apply to me?"

"Yeah," Octavio said, and allowed a teasing tone to overtake his voice, somewhat flirtatious. "First of all, I don't see any of my one-night stands for at least twelve hours after I sleep with them."

"Oddly specific."

"Keeps the workplace professional."

"Any other rules?"

"No relationships," Octavio said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "I'm not looking for one."

Crypto hummed, nodding his head, but there was a faraway look in his eyes, and he wondered what the other was thinking about.

The two of them drank a few more shots of the soju, which wasn’t very strong, but as time went on Octavio started getting impatient, foot jittering against the barstool he was sitting on. Smalltalk was nice and all, but he wanted Crypto to just get to the goddamn point of this already, to ask him if he wanted to go back to his room because the answer was probably going to be _yes, I’ve had a shit day and I want to forget about it._

But the question never came, even as Crypto paid and they left together, leftovers in a bag that hung from the other man’s elbow. They headed back to the compound the Legends stayed at on the weekends, no games being held tomorrow. They stayed on the dropship during the weekdays, prepared to enter the Ring at a moment’s notice, and the only time the two of them could sleep together was on the weekend. So he was waiting, waiting for Crypto to drop the question, to let his intentions be known.

The closer they got, the more fidgety Octavio became, tapping his fingers against his thigh, walking faster than Crypto only to stop to allow the other to catch up. Giving him time to think about it, or work up the courage, or whatever was taking so fucking long.

Two blocks from the compound, and Octavio got impatient.

“Listen,” he said, and Crypto turned to him, eyebrows raised. He didn’t know how to phrase it, how to ask it— _are you going to sleep with me or not, do you want this or not, what’s taking you so long._ He stepped forward, throwing his arms around the other’s neck to pull him down for a kiss that was more teeth than anything else. Crypto responded in earnest, one hand resting on the small of his back as the other tugged at his hair, making little noises in the back of his throat that Octavio thought was pretty hot.

He reached down, felt that the other’s cock was growing hard in his pants, and gasped into his mouth. Crypto just needed a little push, that was all. Finally, it was over with. He didn’t have to wait on edge anymore.

“My room?” Crypto asked against his lips, and.

Octavio didn’t want to.

He didn’t. He wanted to get it over with, that was for sure, but he felt like shit, stuck at a point where he didn’t know if the other touching him would make him feel better or just remind him of something. Someone.

“Sí,” he said anyways, because regardless of whether he wanted to or not, anything would be better than being by himself tonight. He went out to dinner knowing full well how this would end, and now he must go through with it.

They ended up in Crypto's room, and his body felt numb as the other sucked kisses onto his neck like he had the other day, his hands roaming all over him, touching him. He curled his fingers around the head of the other's cock, twisting his hand until he came, and then dexterous fingers were pushing themselves inside of him, and he took it without complaint even though his mind was wandering elsewhere, placing himself hundreds of miles away from here.

It was almost funny how much Crypto wanted to be touched. How much he liked touching Octavio. Maybe they were the same, in that sense.

He closed his eyes as Crypto's fingers worked themselves inside of him, scissoring him open, and fought back the urge to hide his whines by biting into his hand. He finally came on the other's fingers, heart beating fast in his chest and an impending sense of doom hovering over him like it had hours ago.

Maybe he shouldn't have done this.

(Who was he kidding? This was all he was good for.)

* * *

He slept with Crypto Friday evening, then went out Saturday and performed stunts all day, live-streaming for his fans.

Regardless of however he felt, streaming usually made him feel better, and the same held true for Saturday, even if he had to cut it early because his right foot literally popped off and made him unbalanced. Not that it wouldn’t be gnarly to do cool stuff with only one foot, but he wasn’t in the mood to put forth the extra effort, so he bade his fans goodbye and shot up on the rooftop, letting the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins carry out the constant nagging feeling of discomfort he’d been feeling these past few weeks.

He wanted to bite himself as he felt imaginary fingers pry his legs apart, but every time he checked, his legs were still firmly crossed over one another, and he fucking hated it. He wanted to be touched by someone real tonight, put the phantom hands at the back of his mind, but he didn't know who.

The stim wasn't doing what he wanted it to do for him, so he decided the next best thing was to find the first person who would have him.

Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, and still somewhat high, he managed to get himself into Crypto’s bed again, who couldn’t tell that he was drugged initially because he acted the same as he normally did. He was much more into the sex this time, actually wanting it as he kissed down the other’s chest, leaving red marks on his skin as he worked his way down to his cock straining against the front of his pants, enjoying the sound of the other’s moans.

The other man had been all too willing to allow Octavio into his room, and he wondered if he had been thinking about him the same way Octavio was thinking about Crypto. He didn't want to ask, though, because he didn't want to admit that he had been thinking of him all night and how his lips would feel.

He was about to pull Crypto's pants down for him, take him into his mouth, when said man sat up abruptly, eyes wide.

“You-”

Octavio blinked, sitting up as well. His heart was racing in his chest, a combination of stim and getting excited for the other.

“What?”

Crypto pulled his knees up to his chest, covering himself up, which.

He was getting mixed signals here.

“Are you high?” Crypto asked, but not in the judgemental way Ajay or his father would have asked it. He said it in a different kind of way. Octavio didn’t know what that way meant.

“Yeah,” he answered honestly, and pursed his lips, thinking, before offering: “You want some?”

“No,” Crypto said, and they lapsed into silence. Octavio sat on the edge of the other’s bed, staring at the red marks slowly fading from his skin, and suddenly feeling self-conscious of the fact that he was completely naked save for his boxers.

“Um...do you still want me to suck you off, or...?”

“No,” Crypto said, more firmly, and he scooted closer to where Octavio was sitting, shivering, because it was fucking freezing in here and he didn’t know how the other could handle it. “Let’s watch a movie and sleep.”

He was pulled close to the other man, eyes wide, caught between two instincts—wanting to snuggle up to the other’s warmth, and wanting to scramble away, because what the fuck was going on.

“You want me to sleep here, amigo? You sure?”

“You can sleep in your room if you want. I’ll carry you. But I’d rather you stay with me.”

“No,” Octavio decided, not wanting to leave the heat now enveloping him. “This is fine.”

He still didn’t know what was happening, why they stopped, why his heartbeat was slowing down. He didn’t like to be so still. He didn’t like being told to stop, and yet, he appreciated it at the same time. 

The movie they watched was mind-numbingly boring, but he was high enough to enjoy it, and he delighted at the little laughs he managed to get from Crypto as he made sarcastic comments throughout. It was hard to sit still while watching the movie, though—he wanted to kiss the other, at least give him a handjob, do _something_ so he didn’t feel so still and useless, but Crypto was holding him in such a way that it made doing any of those things impossible.

They got to about halfway through the movie before his eyes started drifting shut, Crypto noticing and turning it off despite his protests, and Octavio flipped over onto his side so he was facing the other man, giving himself something to look at that wasn’t the wall.

Phantom hands on his hips and the ghosts of breath on the back of his neck couldn’t bother him now, not pressed so close to Crypto, facing his chest, as opposed to that rando being pressed up to his back the other day. He tried touching the other again, to get a reaction or even a kiss, but Crypto gently swatted his hands away, which confused him.

Why didn't he want to touch him? Everybody wanted to touch Octavio. He wanted to feel good. He wanted to make _Crypto_ feel good.

He didn’t know what Crypto wanted, and that was bothering him.

* * *

Octavio won twice in a row. It was fucking exhilirating, the exact kind of rush he’d been needing nowadays. The first time he had won solo, his random squadmates having died earlier due to their own slowness, and the second time he, Elliott, and Natalie all raised their hands in victory, and partied on the Mirage Voyage as a result.

He was in a good headspace; no need to take stim, no need to go home and fuck some random stranger. It was just him and this crowd of adoring fans.

And Elliott, who was apparently intent on bothering him about Crypto.

“You guys have been spending so much time together recently,” he teased, because he had been the one to see Octavio escape Crypto’s bedroom the morning after The Incident. Elliott had only been awake at the crack of fucking dawn because he was the one who had been stealing everyone’s snacks from the communal kitchen, and had caught Octavio sneaking back to his room with his own hand stuffed down Natalie's cookie jar.

The two had agreed to keep each others' secrets, but that didn’t prevent Elliott from being _annoying_ about it.

“Shut up,” Octavio said, downing half a glass of water in one go. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching your figure? Huh? How you doin’ that if you’re eating all of Wraith’s Goldfish, huh?”

“Exercise,” Elliott responded simply, though his face flushed a little at the words. “Not so loud, I don’t want it to get out that I’m on a diet.”

They both quieted down because Crypto and Wraith both happened to be passing by, talking in low voices, both looking paranoid like they tended to, and Elliott’s loud mouth was at it again as soon as they were out of sight.

“I think it’s kinda cute you guys like each other. I mean, it’s unexpected, but-”

“I don’t _like_ anyone,” Octavio snapped defensively, draining the rest of his water to give himself something to do. This evening was suddenly not very fun, and a faint buzzing noise was droning in his head. “Relationships are boring.”

“I was like you, once,” Elliott sighed, clearly not listening to him, and Octavio rolled his eyes. God, he was gonna prank him next. Get it on camera and everything. He was asking for it. 

"Which is why you're still single, right?"

"I'm single willingly," Elliott sniffed, swirling his own drink in his hand. Unlike Octavio's, it was alcoholic. "Anyways, even if you don't like Crypto, _he_ definitely likes you. He spends time with you. Normally he tells me to fuck off."

"Because you're annoying," Octavio said, nudging the other with his elbow. His voice sounded faraway in his own ears. Tonight was not a good night after all.

"You're equally as annoying But maybe you should give him a chance, yanno?"

"You're drunk," Octavio said, and Elliott laughed, which made his head ring.

A prickly feeling was rooting itself beneath his skin, the urge to touch someone, to have someone touch him back. He wanted someone to feel him up, glide their fingers across his skin and take him into their mouth, drive all the thoughts out of his head and give him the sort of rush needed to clear his mind.

Octavio didn’t like Crypto. Well, he did, but not in that way. He wasn’t good for relationships, more suited for casual sex. Sex was all he was good for when it came to that type of stuff—his body tended to be praised more than his actual personality, hands always finding themselves on his slim waist or muscled thighs. He was okay with that. He'd never managed a relationship before, didn't think he could stomach it, but liked sex just fine. 

(Even though sometimes he didn’t like it all.)

So he liked Crypto as a friend, and as a fuckbuddy, but nothing more than that. He was sure the feeling was mutual, too, regardless of whatever Elliott said.

He _didn’t like_ Crypto in that way.

He grit his teeth, started scratching at the back of his neck because an uncomfortable itch had taken hold of his spine.

He didn’t feel so good.

Octavio found himself in a stranger’s bed less than two hours later. He had given an enthusiastic _yes_ when asked, had stripped down as soon as it was asked of him—to the approval of the faceless man before him, whistling in appreciation at the sight of his naked body.

He had said yes, but the urge to bite his hand was coming back, stronger than it had in years, and he was sweat-soaked, trembling and flushed red as the night went on, the buzzing in his head getting louder.

The stranger’s head moved between his legs and he wanted to take it back. His legs were nudged aside, and he was overwhelmed with phantom sensations.

( _"Is this okay?"_ Crypto asked, pressing his fingers inside of Octavio.

 _"Hell yeah,"_ he breathed out.)

He moved his hand to his mouth and bit down hard to muffle his cries, teeth slotting near-perfectly on the indentation marks usually hidden by gloves.

He wanted to take back the yes, but he couldn’t. This was all he was good for tonight, this was what the man had wanted, so all he could do was bite and bite and bite, and think about Crypto, for some fucking reason.

* * *

Octavio had hated his birthday for the past twelve years. Ajay understood that, even if she didn’t know the reason, and went out with him for lunch without any mention of it being for his birthday. They were just eating out, as friends tended to do, and that was nice. 

A few others tagged along: Anita, Makoa, Natalie, Crypto. The others either hadn’t been around to get invited or were busy.

It was a really nice not-birthday celebration. Probably.

In truth, Octavio hated every fucking moment of it.

Hated it when Anita challenged him to an arm-wrestling match in good spirits, hated it when Makoa gave him a big hug and ruffled his hair, hated it when Natalie clapped her hands and asked him to tell her about the dangerous shit he wanted to pull even though she usually hated listening to that kind of stuff.

He just wanted to leave, just wanted to hunker down somewhere with a fuckton of stim and ride out the high and the adrenaline until his body craved more. It was craving it now, his hands shaking as he cut through his enchiladas and ate them only because he knew Ajay would fucking nag if he didn’t.

He only felt the slightest bit okay when she wasn’t bugging him about it, just talking to him without any intention of being holier-than-thou and telling him to quit stim or stop sleeping around or what-fucking-ever had her panties in a twist at the moment.

He also felt the slightest bit okay when Crypto sat next to him, and smiled at him, because fuck, he had a really nice smile. His lips turned up at the corners in a way that made him resemble a cat, and then he kept talking to Octavio, more than he ever had before, and it was driving him insane.

Octavio liked him.

He wanted to fuck him.

He wanted to fuck anyone—the scar on his hand, more than a decade old, was tingling in agreement. He didn’t care who it was at this point, but Crypto was convenient, and he was being weirdly sweet despite his whole mysterious hacker thing and god he wanted to fuck him, too, didn’t he. That was why he was talking to him, or whatever. This was a mutual thing. Mutual fucking feeling, or whatever.

They got back to the compound—his birthday happened to fall on a weekend—and he took a shower to gather his thoughts before he could find his way into Crypto’s bed tonight.

Fingers ran down his sides, settling at his waist for a few moments before moving to his hips, but the fingers weren’t really there. He bit his hand, propping his leg up on the edge of the bathtub to make jerking off easier.

He needed to be aroused by the time he got to Crypto's room, because if he wasn't, then what was the fucking point?

Sticking two fingers inside of himself, he imagined the other's cock fucking inside of him as more imaginary fingers handled his body roughly, all too similar to the ones that had touched him on this exact day twelve years ago.

 _Fuck._ He didn't want to think about any of that. He bit his hand even harder, breaking skin, muffling his noises, not wanting to be heard or be caught in this shameful position. He imagined Crypto kissing him right where it would make his fingers curl, clenching the bedsheets beneath him. He slipped his slick fingers out, gasping, and. He couldn’t do this. It wasn't working for him.

He let his leg fall back down, skin red and raw from the heat of the shower, and he was pretty sure there were tears running down his face.

Octavio didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the blood from his injured hand wash down the drain, trying to parse through his thoughts and figure out what he wanted.

He hadn’t felt this bad in years. He didn’t know what was making him like this, if it was because of the new(ish) environment he was in, or because it was so close to the time That had happened, or if it was because his stim addiction was starting to get out of hand, or just any combination of those things.

Any of those things could explain him right now, but he didn’t want an explanation. He wanted a solution, no matter how temporary.

So Octavio got out of the shower much later, so much later that the water had started running cold, and he got dressed back into the clothes he had worn to the restaurant. If Ajay saw him, she would have swatted at him in disgust, tossed him a fresh pair of pants at least, but she wasn’t here. No one was here. The hallway was empty when he stepped out into it, and he felt totally alone.

The journey to Crypto’s room didn’t take very long, but it sure felt like an eternity, and that eternity seemed to drag on even after he knocked on the other’s door, waiting for him to answer.

Crypto answered fairly quickly, and he practically threw himself on the other, lips meshing together as Crypto shut the door behind him. They stumbled backwards towards his bed, knocking over various things on their way there, and he hastened to pull his pants down, moving the other’s hand between his legs. Crypto’s fingers worked his way past the waistband of his boxers, and he pulled his lips away from the other with a gasp, trying to breathe because he hadn’t taken a single breath on the way from the bathroom to Crypto’s room, and the feeling of the other rubbing against his clit was making his heart beat impossibly fast.

"Wait-"

He pushed Crypto onto the bed, hips canting forward at the sudden loss of contact as the other man pulled his hand out.

"Octavio-"

He pulled his underwear down, sliding his boxers past his knees as he rushed to get it started, to ride the man lying on the bed before him and forget about everything else.

" _Stop._ "

A pair of hands grabbed his biceps, stopping him in his tracks, and he looked up to meet Crypto's eyes for the first time that night.

Crypto was staring at him with wide eyes, not unlike that night Octavio had come in here, high as a kite and trying to suck him off to feel _something._ The other man also looked strangely blurry for some reason, and it only got worse when he blinked.

Fuck. He was crying.

He was pulled onto the bed, on top of Crypto, who was still completely clothed and it was _bothering_ him, he didn't fucking _understand_ why they had stopped so he pressed his palm against the other's crotch, feeling that he was half-hard and he could reach full hardness if he would just let Octavio touch him.

He was full-on sobbing by the time Crypto yanked his hand away, still holding him close, and he grinded down on Crypto's clothed cock, trying to gain some form of friction, but Octavio was then flipped over onto his back, so Crypto was now hovering over him, hands holding his hips still.

So he wanted to switch positions, was that it? He grit his teeth as the other's hands moved to hold down his arms, preventing him from trying to take off Crypto's pants, and he sat on his thighs, well away from his crotch and not giving him what he _fucking_ wanted.

" _Why_ are you panicking," Crypto asked, voice so firm that it hardly sounded like a question, more like a statement. Octavio didn't understand what he was saying, what he was _implying,_ but he had had enough of these games. He wanted to move on, to get going.

"Just fuck me," he said, voice relatively clear despite how much his chest was hurting from a combination of his heart racing and his tears. "Just _fuck me,_ for the love of-"

He tried freeing his hands, but Crypto was stronger and bigger than him, and he'd never been so frustrated by that fact until now.

"I can't," Crypto said, watching Octavio squirm beneath him. 

" _Why_?" Octavio asked, angry, because it didn't make any _fucking_ sense. " _Why_ don't you want me?"

"I do," Crypto said, loosening his grip on Octavio's arms, evidently afraid of leaving bruises. "But you are not...in the right mind for it."

"Fuck you," Octavio spat, and finally managed to free himself, sitting up and nearly hitting his head against the other's. "I'm fucking _fine,_ compadre, and I would be fucking _better_ if you would hurry up and stick your cock in me like I know you fucking want to."

"That's harsh," Crypto said, not sounding that upset over it.

"It's true."

"Not necessarily."

The next thing he knew, he was being hugged, pressed down onto the bed while Crypto wrapped his arms around him.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

"But I want to," Octavio responded, and he didn't get it. He didn't. He couldn't understand why Crypto didn't get that he _wanted_ this, didn't know why the other hadn't jumped onto the oppurtunity to fuck into him like he had been trying to do all night, with all that smalltalk he had been making at the restauraunt. His legs were spread, he was half-naked, and the other was clearly hard, so why, why, _why_ wasn’t he trying anything, _everybody_ wanted Octavio, nobody had ever said no to him and–

"No, you don't."

Octavio wanted to know how he came to that conclusion. What great leaps the other had made in his mind to come up with that answer. He wanted to laugh, or get mad, or both, and tell Crypto how fucking _wrong_ he was. Octavio always wanted sex. He was _known_ for it, having garnered that type of reputation in high school that followed him into college before he dropped out, and it had followed him back to his fanbase, some knowing that if they were lucky enough to get into an afterparty, the chances of Octavio ending up in their bed were high.

Octavio Silva never said no. Not to a dangerous stunt, not to a stranger looking for a quick fuck, not to some new drug to be put into his system. He could say no to the _boring_ stuff, but sex wasn't boring. 

He always wanted sex, even if he didn't.

He felt fingers trace along the indented marks on his hand, the bite marks that had faded and healed and reappeared again and scarred and got worse and worse and worse as he got older. 

"What's this?" Crypto asked curiously, and something inside of him broke.

He didn't know it was linked to the reason Octavio was panicking. He didn't know it was why Octavio was in his bed, sobbing and begging for the other to just get on with it already, fuck him and use him so he could get up in the morning and take stim and play another game. He didn't know any of that. And Octavio didn't _want_ him to know, but everything inside of him that had been building up for weeks broke the dam, and he spilled.

Crypto listened to his unexpected torrent, propped up on his elbows to stare at Octavio, with his brows knit together and his jaw set. He had never told anyone before, not even Ajay, and it was somehow relieving and yet highly nerve-wracking to say it all out loud.

(Well, he had told _one_ person before. But business had always been more important to his father than his son's well being, and so his rapist was let back into the house, again and again and again until he had to go to the hospital because the bite marks on his hand had become infected.) 

At some point in his rambling, Crypto had pulled Octavio’s pants up for him, pulling him up the bed so his legs weren’t hanging off of it. When he finished speaking (not entirely sure if he had said the last bits in either Spanish or English), Crypto had pulled his injured hand towards him, rubbing over the bite carefully with his thumb.

Octavio stared, heart picking up pace in his chest as he tried to figure out what he was thinking, what was going through his mind, if he was going to kick Octavio out of his room for being fucking disgusting or go through with having sex with him, pull his pants back down and give him what he wanted (didn’t want).

Instead, Crypto raised Octavio’s hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss there as to not irritate it, and said, “Let’s just lay here.”

Octavio didn’t know how to respond.

“Is that fine with you?”

He didn’t know.

He couldn’t figure out why he wanted him there.

“Octavio?”

“You’re not,” Octavio rushed out, more of a mumble than actual words, and he swallowed. “You’re not going to-”

_Not going to what?_

_Kick him out? Fuck him? Abandon him?_

“You’re not going to do anything?”

“No,” Crypto said, and glanced away from Octavio’s face. “Stay with me.”

“Crypto-”

“Taejoon.”

Octavio blinked, which hurt to do because his eyes were irritated and his eyelashes were clumping together, and he asked, “What?”

“That’s my name.”

Octavio vaguely recalled reading Crypto’s name off of some file, but for some reason, the memory of that name did not match up with the one being told to him, and he stared at the other, somehow unable to form a proper sentence.

“You told me something personal,” Taejoon said, and let go of his hand, finally, but he didn’t want him to. He didn’t know what he wanted tonight, but letting go of Taejoon’s hand was not one of those things. “So it’s only fair if I tell you something back. But do not tell anybody that that is my name.”

Octavio swallowed heavily, hand still resting where Taejoon had dropped it, and he wanted to touch the other. He really did. “Why?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Taejoon hesitated before sliding down to lay beside him, and threw his arm around Octavio’s waist, not too close, but not too far. 

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Taejoon told him quietly.

"I don't think about it," Octavio said, and it was true. He didn't think about it—just felt echoes of it, and had sex until those echoes were drowned out by the real thing. It was exactly what he had been trying to do with Taejoon tonight.

Lying here, side-by-side, was the first time they had been like this fully-clothed, and it was weird, staring at Taejoon’s face and noticing just how pinched it was, how hard he was biting the inside of his cheek and how furrowed his brows were.

Maybe he would find out the reason why tomorrow.

For now he was content on calming his heart down, staring at the other and drinking his appearance in hungrily.

* * *

“Where’d you go last night?” Ajay asked, sliding him a plate of toast. She only ever made him breakfast when she had time to spare, and oftentimes it was simple stuff like this. He liked plain toast, though, so it was fine.

“Nowhere,” Octavio whined, spinning on his chair and kicking his legs out. “It was so _boring_ yesterday, you would not believe.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t find your own birthday so boring if you would let me celebrate it.”

Octavio shoved a piece of toast in his mouth to keep himself from saying anything. After spilling his guts to Taejoon last night, feeling vulnerable like an exposed wire, he was suddenly finding it a lot more difficult to keep the secret from his best friend. He felt like she should know, and at the same time, she wouldn’t believe him. And even if she did, he didn’t want her to pity him.

Telling Taejoon had been different somehow. He had actually managed to fall asleep last night, despite his body still being keyed up and stuck in fight or flight mode, and it was because the presence of the other made him feel somewhat secure.

He had woken up this morning and not felt the urge to make himself scarce, so he laid in Taejoon's arms, enjoying the feeling of being touched gently like this with no ulterior motive. When Taejoon woke up later and asked him if he wanted to get lunch, he said yes, to his own surprise.

“Just so we’re on the same page,” Taejoon had said, wiping spit from the corner of his mouth. His hair was all stuck up in the back, spiky like a hedgehog, and he wanted to run his hands through it. “Me wanting to have lunch with you does not equate to me wanting to have sex.”

“Okay.”

“If I want sex, I will tell you.”

“Entendido.”

“And if you want sex, you tell me.”

“Got it.”

“But if you ever don’t want sex, if you ever take it back, tell me. I will stop.”

“Right.”

Taejoon squinted at him, eyes cloudy with sleep.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” Octavio had said, and laid back down, feeling his back pop. “It’s just weird.”

“How so?”

“Lunch? That’s all you want from me?”

Taejoon paused, before climbing over the bed to where Octavio was sitting on the edge, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Maybe a cuddle or two.”

“You’re weird,” Octavio told him.

“Not really. This is normal.”

Maybe Octavio liked normal after all, he thought to himself as he poured more orange juice into his glass. Taejoon was taking a shower, and had promised him that they would go out for lunch and then tell Octavio something important later on.

He wasn’t going to act like he was suddenly okay with everything, that he understood things now, but it felt a hell of a lot easier functioning today than it had been yesterday. He wanted to run a few laps, do a couple of stupid things like set something on fire or replace all of Banaglore’s hairspray with cooking spray.

Ajay finally sat down beside him and snapped her fingers in front of his face to get him to stop spacing out. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lyin’.”

“I’m fine,” Octavio said, and it was the truth.

He really was.

* * *

Taejoon kissed him, lips moving against Octavio’s in a gentle way he hadn’t experienced with the other yet, and it was weird, and yet nice. Everything was consensual this time, because Taejoon had checked and double-checked and even stopped halfway through kissing him to check again. 

Octavio understood why now, but it was kind of annoying.

Endearing, but annoying.

Octavio kissed back harder, pinning Taejoon against the couch they were lying on, hands pressed into the cushion beneath them as this went on. Taejoon was touch-starved in a way that was easy to pick up on, seeking out contact in a way that didn’t leave Octavio feeling cornered, and it was easy to oblige him. 

It was satisfying to know the other wanted him just as much as he wanted him, and not in a purely sexual way. He _liked_ Taejoon, he could admit that now, and it felt easier to say _‘no’_ when Taejoon asked him if he wanted to do anything else.

“I like this,” Octavio said. “ _Me encantas._ ”

“Good,” Taejoon said back. “ _Jo ah hae yo._ ”

He rubbed his hands down Taejoon’s sides, delighting in the faces he made, before kissing him again. He was starting to feel that itch for stim again, but despite the energy thrumming beneath his skin, he didn’t want any at the moment. No, Taejoon was a suitable replacement, even if his hands were shaking as he cupped the other’s face, hungry for more.

(“I like spending time with you,” Taejoon had told him at lunch, trying out the pozole Octavio had ordered for him. “Playing video games, in the Ring, watching movies. I like you.”

“That’s dumb,” Octavio replied. “It’s dumb to like me.”

“A little bit.” Taejoon’s eyes flickered away, and he looked lost for a moment. Like he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure if he should. 

Like he was hiding something.

But that just made him all the more interesting to Octavio, all the more exciting.)

They eventually settled down, Octavio half in Taejoon’s lap as they started up a video game to play together, controllers in hand and talking light-heartedly. They were playing Mario Kart, a silly game that didn’t require the focus or precision of the other games they played together, and while it was a little boring, it was nice because he was doing it with Taejoon.

A ghostly hand ran itself down his face, down his chest, over his sides before settling at his thigh. His good mood quickly faded, but one glance at Taejoon, who was staring at the screen, biting the inside of his cheek as he concentrated, was enough to make him shake off the phantom hand.

Octavio laid against the other’s side, resting his head against his shoulder, and tossed a power-up to make Taejoon fall into fourth place. Taejoon was nice to touch—nice to kiss, nice to have sex with, but also nice to just plain touch without anything else going on. It was calming to his beating heart.

“You good?” Taejoon asked, and he hummed, fighting back the shaking in his hands.

“Yeah. I am.”

Everything would be okay. He knew what he wanted now.

**Author's Note:**

> edit for clarification because ive already gotten tumblr drama asks: 
> 
> *i am , in fact, a victim of csa  
> *no, octane is not ace in this fic and crypto is not r*ping him. he is gay . he is just suffering from trauma
> 
> sorry if the ending feels rushed i ended up writing 4 times the amount the c*mmissioner paid for which . im sowwy . so i tried cutting it short. hope u enjoyed!
> 
> here's [my tumblr](https://seerofmike.tumblr.com/) and [this tumblr page](https://seerofmike.tumblr.com/commissions) ! and [my twitter](https://twitter.com/tsodmike)
> 
> most of these tls are for food lol
> 
> korean:  
> gilgeori toast: korean egg sandwich, an on-the-go type of breakfast  
> galbi: grilled ribs  
> bulgogi: meat dish, kinda spicy  
> musaengchae: spicy radish salad  
> jo ah hae yo: i like you
> 
> spanish:  
> pozole: a type of soup with hominy in it and meat, usually pork. my grandma used to make it with bones inside and let me tell you that shit was a choking hazard  
> entendido: understood  
> me encantas: i like you/you interest me/fascinate me


End file.
